What he couldn't have
by HolyMaiden24
Summary: Special Skyward Swaps one-shot. A 'What if"... what if Ghirahim's feelings towards Zelda were more than what was shown? This is teen rated, and contains references to sex and violence. SPOILERS up to chapter 14 of Skyward Swaps.


This is a one shot I did for my Skyward Swaps Fan fic, exploring how Ghirahim would feel if his feelings towards Zelda were more than what they seemed. For some reason, crack fics involving Zelda with certain characters have interested me, and those GhiraZel crack fics are no exception. However, since this isn't everyone's cup of tea, and because I was trying (and almost gave into temptation) to avoid this for the actual fan fic.

...But Ghirahim's obsession with Zelda's hair was NOT helping this in any way.

This contains important spoilers, up to chapter 14, and lots of implications of the mature rated kind. If you are squeamish about violence and sexual references, don't read on.

Also, contains a lot of 'burning' or 'fire' references. I blame Ed Sheeran's "I see fire" song and the temptation that is the voice of Smaug the dragon. (Even if it's just an altered version of Benedict Cumberbatch's voice *coughcough*).

Also... this is the closest I've gotten to... uh, _steamier_ fan fics. It will show.

-What he couldn't have-

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><p>The weapon protects it's wielder and obeys his or her command. They are neither good nor evil, but an extension of the soul of the one who uses it.<p>

Ghirahim was born in the fires of greed, destruction and darkness, by his first master. Whatever his master sought, he sought in turn. The destruction caused by countless slaughter and ruin aided in shaping him into the second most feared being throughout the land of Hylia. He was destruction incarnate.

And, as a weapon first and foremost, his devotion lay entirely to his Master- the one who was, in a sense, father, commander, and, in a twisted way, his lover.

Which is why it would have made little sense that his second master was a young woman- a descendant of his previous victims- chosen to guide her people to a new future, devoid of the evil of his former master.

He often wondered why fate decided that Zelda would become his new wielder. Had things been different, he could have killed her without a second thought. He would have loved to taunt her, break her spirit, strangle her with her long golden locks, and slash her body open and stain her lovely skin with the rivers of blood that would flow from her body.

_Droplets of blood spraying out of the enemy's body are far more beautiful than rain falling from the sky._

It would have happened, had his first master not betrayed him. If his master had not shattered the sword that was essentially his true form, he would have never found himself under Hylia's care. Through Hylia, his pride was broken and reshaped into someone who could understand what it meant to be weak and devoid of faith. Though Hylia tried to make him be something more _human _besides granting him the form of something akin to one, Ghirahim had no desire to ever become one.

He even went along with Hylia's grand scheme, out of the need for a purpose, not knowing whether or not he would like his new mistress until she was finally born. Until she grew into a spirited young woman who was daring, mischievous and wouldn't put up with the nonsense of her classmates, that she became someone worthy to claim what was once the blade of a demonic warlord.

The girl with the sunny disposition, wisdom, and sharp tongue had quite an effect on him. While she proved herself worthy of Hylia's task, she was not without her flaws. Especially her self doubt, which tended to be aggravating at times. And yet, she had somehow charmed him, just like almost everyone else she met along her journey. With Zelda, he learned what it meant to actually care about protecting someone- what it was like to be more like a human.

The idea that he had grown soft still made him somewhat queasy.

_If only, if only, if only-_

His favorite moments with her, next to the fighting against all those beasts, and teaching her how to fight, was when he was somehow by her side, hearing her sing those songs as she plucked the strings of the harp. They were moments of relaxation, but a part of him imagined she was doing it all for him and him alone.

The worst moment he ever had in their adventure was not the number of times she almost died. She proved herself too resourceful and too clever for that, and the number of times she was remotely close to the door, he was right there to keep her from the sword's path. And he trained her well, he would think with pride: he shaped her into a warrior ideal for combat, and had time allotted him, he could have made her into a glorious warlord.

No, it was the fight against Koloktos.

"_You are very much like your sword. You have a way with words, but your inferiority can be felt through our confrontations. Neither of you can survive without some divine aid, instead of your own abilities." _That infernal blue haired girl spoke, planting the seeds of doubt in two hearts.

He sensed the doubt in Zelda's heart- in an all too rare, dangerous moment, their minds were linked and they could sense one another's doubts. It was a dangerous side effect of having the weapon and the warrior being too joined together in mind and emotion.

He sensed her self doubt- that she could never be as powerful as anyone else she knew- and she was giving into the bloodlust that he occasionally encouraged.

It was beautiful to see her giving in to the desire to kill, and forsake all reservations. But then she forsook him for one of Koloktos's many swords and subjugated it to what should have been a delightful twist of irony. Instead, panic gripped his heart, as well as the old memory of seeing his sword shattered to pieces by his own master. He was going to be abandoned, just as before- and it made him furious beyond all reasoning.

He had grown to despise every single weapon she had collected or had been granted. While none of them contained a spirit, they mocked him in that they held a use that he couldn't provide, and the simple fact that they existed was annoying. In childish bouts of behavior, he'd take those weapons in the dead of the night and silently scowl at them in contempt before returning them back from her belongings.

Yet, the swords of Kolotos filled him with such a furious rage, that he couldn't think straight. He was known for this erratic behavior for a reason: he made it known to the young girl as he destroyed what remained of the automaton and spat venom in her face, accusing her of forsaking him.

_Was this why he had been abandoned? Was he too emotional to be of any use?_

And yet, she wanted to know why he acted as he did. Why he acted like a jealous lover whenever she found a new weapon (curse Hylia for laying those childish toys about).

He never wanted to tell her the truth. He realized that he was having fun on this little adventure with her, and yet, she deserved to know, for all that was to come her way...

Would he be burned by the flames for who he truly was? A sword forged by greed?

And so, he told her the truth about himself... and not only did she accept it with ease, but she vowed never to let him go.

She was too optimistic, but her resolve touched Ghirahim.

_Is this where it truly began, when he began to feel the way he did towards her?_

It would be a lie to say that he didn't desire her.

Hylia chose well. Zelda may have lacked the divine beauty of the Goddesses, but she wasn't homely either. Her soul gave her a rare beauty that made her more desirable to most, and her pure voice and talent with the harp made her seem like something... more then a normal human.

_Of course the blade damn well couldn't be called the 'Mistress Sword' due to unfortunate implications, he once thought, many days later._

He hated it when she was desired by other men. That red haired fool was the worst of the lot, and at times, it wasn't the ridiculous pompadour that he wanted to shave off. He was satisfied when he sacred off that fool from his mistress, and he delighted in her enjoyment of his sadistic side. Her laughs were like the melodies she would later play upon her harp.

_Had she been his first master, back in those days, he would have plucked out the wandering eyes of any unworthy gazers._

_-And in precious sleep-_

It was pure luck that he never took advantage of her while she slept. Oh, he could sleep too, but there were times where he studied her in the moonlight. Studied her shapely form, her facial features, her hair that cascaded like waterfalls over her body, and her face...

He couldn't count how many times he wanted to pull those ribbons out of her hair. He wanted to run his hands though those long golden locks and get his fingers tangled up in them. Maybe that's how he realized that he wanted her as more than his mistress.

He had the strangest fantasies: he often wished that she would just take the sword out of it's sheath and curl her body around it, as if the enemy could strike at any second... or if she was wrapping herself around his body. Some nights, he would imagine her to be dressed in exquisite finery and beautiful gowns: he dreamt up the most lavish of dancing halls made of fine crystal, marble, and wood, and he would have her dancing with him. Those thoughts were more innocent than the other ones. One rather pathetic night, he imagined that her body was encased in golden amber colored crystal or metal. Every inch of her would shine like golden amber- which could change into the gold of her beautiful hair in the sunlight- and she could be wearing nothing but blue crystal like jewelry. Even her eyes would shine in that same color.

He imagined her to be a spirit, just like him.

Oh, that silly girl- he expected her to cower in fear when she saw him in this body of blackish brown and white, and completely flawless, but there was only awe and juvenile curiosity when she looked him over. She found him to be quite the specimen and it pleased him greatly.

He wanted to turn her into a mewing kitten: he wanted to impose upon her a dominance that she would be willing to accept. He wanted to cut into her skin, and make her dig her nails into his pale flesh as she hissed out in both pleasure and pain. He wanted to make her burn, in ways a fire could and could not- _Oh, her father would be upset indeed, if he knew what kind of demon slept by his daughter's bedside._

Sometimes, he would have nightmares.

He dreamt that Fi had severed Zelda's head clean off. There was another twisted one, where he saw his old master stabbing his sword (_he was the sword) _through her heart.

The worst one was one in which he had no part.

It was Zelda, and yet it wasn't- she looked lightly different, she dressed different, and her bangs were long enough to be pinned back, but the essence was her.

In the flash of light provided by a wall of fire and thunder in the dark of night, he saw her stomach sliced open by a large blade. He couldn't see the wielder, but he saw the blue, glowing eyes.

And she was choking on her own blood until the life left her body.

He wasn't in this dream. He couldn't find himself in it, no matter where he looked, for she appeared to be weaponless.

And then his eyes would turn to a familiar green garbed figure beyond the fire. He knew it was the figure that was also to blame, for a much sinister reason.

And then, all he saw was fire as the rage consumed him. He made his way to that foolish boy, ready to make him pay for his sins-

He woke up in such a panic that it was a miracle that he didn't scream for her. He needed to see her lying in bed- he needed to see her chest rise and fall- to confirm that she was still alive.

_-The day of the Triforce was upon them... was it to be the last night of being by her side?-_

"Why did you really insist on me taking my hair ribbons out?"

Her voice called to him from his place in the sword, from where the jewel of the hilt normally was.

Ghirahim transported himself out and stood in front of his mistress, and immediately cursed himself for doing so. The moon was shining, and it gave her an unnatural glow, highlighting her hair, her facial features, her shoulders... some of it was shining on her breasts, of all places, and he forced himself to keep his eyes on hers.

"You had a reason for it." She answered for him. "You placed your hands through it, as if you wanted them in my hair." She sounded confused at the idea.

She caught him. She cached his panic, and realized it. "You... actually wanted to do that, didn't you? So was the whole thing an excuse to run your hands through my hair?"

He cringed.

"Ghirahim, what is it? What are you not telling me?!"

"Take a guess, Mistress Zelda!" He unintentionally spat out in defense and the girl flinched at his words. "I have never met one so wondrous and yet so frustrating at the same time! I could tell you how much you have bewitched me, but I can't because I know what it could spell for the both of us!"

He let out a heartless laugh, "She touched my chest without thinking about it. She doesn't know what she did." In fact, it was the equivalent of a rush of ecstasy and pleasure. He could still feel such things, but where they could effect him wasn't in the traditional sense. The girl was getting herself dirty without even knowing it but it dawned on her, and the shade of red in her cheeks was a welcoming sight.

"I want you!" Ghirahim growled, which sounded frustrated, angry, yet lustful at the same time. "Yes, I finally admit it- you've bewitched me, human child, in a way no one else ever could. Whether it's my duty towards you, or because of something else, I want you, and I want no one else to lay a finger or an eye upon you! I'd tear them apart with the greatest of satisfaction before they would dare speak to you!"

His head began to ache and he felt himself collapse against her drawers. This outburst was too much for him, of all the possible times.

"And yet, I fight my urges off." He moaned. "Because I know that, no matter you much we are connected, your heart belongs to another. Because you are not something I can take so easily-

_Because they are too different. That's what he want's to say. In the end, he really is just the spirit of a sword, and she is only mortal- she would age, in time, and her body couldn't be reforged back the way it was. That, and that he wanted something that wasn't even his to begin with. Curse Hylia-_

"I hate Hylia." He cursed more to himself than to her. "He once refused to claim a woman for himself because he felt that, even if he made her like himself, he could take away her spirit and make her live well beyond the years of those she loved. And yet, he is doing the same through that incarnation of his- he is causing you more harm than he should. He makes you do his work, while he destroys your should from the inside out. His incarnation slumbers while you must play fool to the gods. I know that I haven't been entirely honest with you, but-"

His headache grows worse and suddenly he accidentally summoned his sword out and swung it against something. He couldn't see what it was, but it sounded like wood, which he could pull the blade from with inhuman ease.

"I hate him for making me care about someone else." He finally sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I wish I hadn't been given emotion in the first place. At least things would have been easier-"

He slid down the dresser and fell to the floor, already spent, and yet still wanting to spit out fire.

"I can't ask for your forgiveness. I can't help who I am- I'd rather that you hate me than pity me, since hatred is a more honest emotion. But I confess this: I want you, before the next day ends. But you will belong to the one you love the most, and I... I don't know what's to come for me."

The lack of sound was more intimidating than anything else in that instant.

"I don't know what I should say." He heard her confess. "I don't know what I should do."

And neither did he.

"But I am glad that you told me. Whatever happens tomorrow, I don't want any regrets between us."

He heard her get up and she appeared beside him, as if she were a ghost.

Without warning, she invaded his space, pulled his face towards her own... and burned his lips with her own.

It was one big mistake.

He lunged at her, knocking her to the floor, until he was above her, but it didn't stop there. He then pulled her up and ran his hair through those golden strands of hair that he so craved for.

To his greater amazement, she became caught up-trapped- in his bout of passion and returned his gestures.

He burned her with his touches, and she burned him with hers. She gave him the sweetest of kisses, and he was more than willing to make them more desirable. He tangled his fingers in her long blonde hair as her fingers raked against his back, under his red cloak.

Finally, at long last, he was given free reign on her hair. From petting, to raking his fingers through her hair, to pulling on it, she bid him the non verbal permission as she ran her own hands down his arms and chest.

He made her dig her nails into his flesh as he sucked and bit at the skin of her neck, and her hiss of pleasure was everything he wanted and more.

He wanted oh, so, much to lay his claim upon her: lay his claim, before fate could tear her away from him. And this body that Hylia generously gave him was screaming for it.

But he couldn't.

He could never lay his claim on her, so long as she still waited for the one who was still trapped in a long slumber. And even if the Spirited Warrior had been only her twin brother, he felt that this yet to be fulfilled union could only end in tragedy. No matter which way fate had decided it's course, he could never have her.

With this realization, he quickly forced her away from him, as if she truly were fire. She tumbled onto the floor, and he didn't bother to look up.

"I... can't." He bowed his head in shame. "This can't be. I'm sorry."

He glanced up to her. She seemed stunned, possibly a little hurt, but slightly ashamed, and that is what kills him.

"I appreciate what you just gave me, dear girl, but I'm afraid of what could of happened, if I hadn't stopped myself. I ask only for forgiveness, even if I don't deserve it... you deserve to have your happiness with the one who still waits for you."

He saw fire... golden fire... and it threatened to take him down with her.

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><p>They got over it the next day. I don't know how, but they did.<p>

Well, technically, whether or not this can be considered canon is up to you.


End file.
